


tonight isn't a rarity (but he'll be fine)

by privateerwrites



Series: These lines aren't wrinkles [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aramis has asthma, Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sleepy Cuddles, aramis isn't worried about aramis, athos spends this whole fic as a pillow, porthos gets worried about aramis but that's his job, the musketeers are all vets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateerwrites/pseuds/privateerwrites
Summary: Modern AU where Aramis is disabled, d'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are all dating, and basically just an excuse to write comfort cuddles
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay/d'Artagnan/Athos | Comte de la Fère/Porthos du Vallon
Series: These lines aren't wrinkles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084148
Comments: 22
Kudos: 59





	tonight isn't a rarity (but he'll be fine)

D'Artagnan wakes up to a loud crash. For a moment, he panics, but then he realizes that it was probably just an icicle breaking off the roof. He's tired, and upon inspection of the clock on the side table, it's one in the morning. 

There's a strange buzzing, quiet but persistent, coming from a place that is not his room. He considers, for a moment, that he could just turn over and go back to sleep, but then the buzzing continues and he's a little too curious and so he heads into the living room. There, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, is Aramis. He's nestled against Athos and upon spotting d'Artagnan, he waves weakly. 

There's smoke coming out from around Aramis' mouth, and d'Artagnan can't quite figure out what it is. He peers a little closer, and sees that there is something in Aramis' mouth that is attached to a hose and the hose is attached to a large black box on the ground. This appears to be the source of the buzzing, and now that he's a little closer, the floor seems to vibrate a bit, too. 

Athos is rubbing Aramis' arm gently and shushing him, dropping little kisses on top of his head every once in a while. Aramis looks... he looks knocked out. He smiles a little around whatever is sitting in his mouth, but it's fairly evident that even that is tiring. His head drops back onto Athos' chest and he closes his eyes again. Athos has a book in his other hand, and is reading over Aramis' head. D'Artagnan approaches quietly, unsure as to what, exactly, he's interrupting. Athos notices d'Artagnan lurking off to the side and waves him in tiredly. 

"What's up," d'Artagnan whispers, gesturing to Aramis' prone form. It feels a little wrong for the situation- to be quite honest, he still doesn't know what Aramis is inhaling, or why. He really hopes its not some sort of illegal drug. Athos sighs. 

"He wasn't breathing too well," Athos says by way of explanation, carefully running his hand through Aramis' hair and pressing a kiss to his head. 

"Oh," d'Artagnan breaths softly, and suddenly he remembers a conversation they'd had when Aramis, Athos, and Porthos had mentioned that they were interested in him. They'd said that running the store was one of the only things they could really manage to do, because one of them was disabled and needed odd time off and they were all vets. He'd never really spent much thought to which of them had the disability, partly because it wasn't really any of his business, they'd tell him if and when they wanted, but partly because it hadn't been an immediate concern- he'd been a little more taken with _oh fuck they like me oh fuck oh holy shit oh my god_. 

"Is he... is he alright?" Athos nods. Aramis laughs though, and then immediately breaks out coughing and scowls. Athos moves to soothe Aramis and try to get a better look at him in a smooth, practiced looking motion, and d'Artagnan is rather aware that he is kind of out of place. 

He gets up to go, to leave Aramis and Athos to their fixing of Aramis' lungs, but then he hears a quiet voice. 

"Stay," Aramis whispers, and d'Artagnan does, because he cannot imagine leaving now that Aramis has asked him not to. He sits back down on the floor slowly, crossing his legs. Aramis drops an arm over the side of the couch and d'Artagnan, soft as he is for his boyfriend's affection, reaches out and takes his hand. Aramis doesn't grab back, just sort of clings on against gravity and d'Artagnan shoots Athos a worried look at the lack of strength. Athos nods in understanding. 

"It’s normal. He's breathing in a bronchiodialating steroid and it's going to knock him out like that. He's going to be shaking later. He'll be alright, though, don't worry." D'Artagnan nods, because really, he's rather unsure of the whole thing. 

Aramis nods up at Athos a couple of minutes later, and Athos reaches down, fiddles with the black box a bit, and then the buzzing stops. Aramis squeezes his hand gently, although the gentleness of the gesture does not seem to entirely be his choice. 

Athos pulls Aramis closer in when he starts breathing shakily, and even d'Artagnan can hear the shudder in the breath from his spot on the floor. 

"Shhhh, shhh, I've gotcha," Athos breathes into Aramis' hair. He places a hand on Aramis' forehead and tilts his head back onto his shoulder. His other hand is still running soothing lines up and down the side of Aramis' body. D'Artagnan is enchanted into silence for a moment, watching the two of them. It's clear this is something they've done a thousand times and these actions are the result of many night spent in this fashion. 

"Can I help," d'Artagnan asks, and he tries to match Athos' volume, because while he is unsure of the general etiquette in this situation, he can copy what he sees. 

Athos thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head. 

"At this point he just has to wait it out. If you really want to do something though, you can go throw that tube away." Athos gestures with his head to a small empty plastic tube that's sitting on the arm of the couch. D'Artagnan grabs it and makes his way into the kitchen, where he finds Porthos standing at the sink, staring into it as if it'll tell him some grand secret or otherwise it must be interrogated. 

" 'e was coughin' up somethin' of a storm," Porthos says quietly, and d'Artagnan can hear the worry in his voice. "Surprised you slept through that." D'Artagnan shrugs. 

"I sleep heavy. Is this a regular thing?" D'Artagnan leans against the drain board and turns his head to look at Porthos better. 

"Yea- no- there's no' really a good answer for that," Porthos finally settles on, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Some winters, yeah, it's this every night. Some winters this happens once a month. There's no pattern to it." 

D'Artagnan is suddenly reminded of how long they've all been together- Porthos had said _some_ winters, and the implication that they've had many, many winters together hangs heavy in the air. 

"Oh," d'Artagnan says softly, and Porthos chuckles. 

"Yeah," he says with a small smile. "Yeah. He'll turn out fine though pup, don't you worry yourself. He'll be fine." Porthos states this like a prayer, like a statement that must be true, because if it isn't, he cannot go beyond that. He says it like a man who needs to believe it so badly that he cannot imagine it not to be true. 

D'Artagnan grabs Porthos' hand and brings him back to the living room where Aramis and Athos are still laying on the couch. 

"Found someone, have you then," Athos drawls with a smile, and it's clear that he is glad to see Porthos. Aramis picks his head up at the rumbling sound of Porthos' response, and he reaches out for Porthos' hand. 

Porthos smiles, and he obviously takes comfort in the fact that Aramis can reach for him. 

"Still buzzin', love," Porthos asks gently. Aramis nods, and Athos pulls him closer, pressing another kiss to his head. 

"Shhh," Athos murmurs to Aramis gently. "Shhhhhh, I'm here." 

Aramis manages to tuck himself deeper into Athos' being, and closes his eyes. D'Artagnan leans his head against Porthos' shoulder and tucks his head into the side of his neck. 

"Carry me to bed, darling," Aramis whispers. Porthos gently dislodges d'Artagnan's head from his shoulder, leaves a little kiss on top of his head, and stands. He scoops Aramis up and plants a kiss to his cheek. 

"I've gotcha. Gotcha love, I've gotcha. You're so brave, so brave," Porthos says, whispering the encouragements into Aramis' ear. Aramis leans up to whisper something to Porthos. He stops, and then smiles and nods. 

"Come cuddle with us, 'Mis wants you both in his bed." 

"Isn't that a bit of a tight squeeze," d'Artagnan asks. Athos smiles, then. 

"No, it won't be," he says smoothly, and that is that. 

(It isn't.)

**Author's Note:**

> If Tumblr is your thing, I'm also over there at privateerstudies!!


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